


With Mental Clarity Comes Fog

by Uozumi



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 09:47:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uozumi/pseuds/Uozumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Months after Will’s arrest, Beverly amasses evidence that Will Graham is not the copycat, though the copycat’s true identity remains unknown. Upon release, Hannibal brings Will to Alana Bloom’s house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Mental Clarity Comes Fog

**Author's Note:**

> **Fandom** _Hannibal_ (2013)  
>  **Character(s)/Pairing(s)** Alana Bloom, Will Graham, Beverly Katz, Hannibal Lecter; take what pairings as you will  
>  **Genre** Drama/Future Fic/Gen  
>  **Rating** PG  
>  **Word Count** 1,322  
>  **Disclaimer** Hannibal c. NBC  
>  **Summary** Months after Will’s arrest, Beverly amasses evidence that Will Graham is not the copycat, though the copycat’s true identity remains unknown. Upon release, Hannibal brings Will to Alana Bloom’s house.   
> **Warning(s)** spoilers up through season one episode thirteen  
>  **Notes** I wrote something similar as a flash fic for thisaintmydesign in her Tumblr submission box. The general plot haunted me so I decided to flesh it out.

**_With Mental Clarity Comes Fog_ **

Beverly Katz spread out all the evidence and scrutinized it thoroughly. It was spring when she finally put the final pieces together. The differences were subtle, but someone else had tied the lures. She interviewed doctors about encephalitis and how it affected coordination. She did not visit Will so she could seem impartial, but she did read the reports from the prison’s psychiatrist. Beverly put everything she could find together and presented it to Jack Crawford. The evidence pointed to someone of great strength who stood approximately the same height as Will Graham, someone with steady hands and mental clarity. That person had tied the lures. That person was manipulating the investigation. 

It was almost summer when Will emerged from his cell for the last time. He changed into his civilian clothing, pocketed his wallet, and put on his watch. Jack Crawford was busy with funeral arrangements. Beverly and the rest of the forensics team could not leave work early. Alana Bloom wanted to pick Will up, but she could not come when the prison wanted to release Will either. 

Will exited the prison gate and into the prison’s civilian parking lot. His eyes found Hannibal Lecter immediately. The fever was long since passed and his brain healed as much as it could. Will was no longer certain of the designs he saw towards the end before his incarceration. The memories were hazy from antibiotics and months of psychotherapy with the prison’s psychiatrist. Anger, pain, confusion swelled inside of Will. It was rapid, instinctive. However, there were no other options to get home or at least to his dogs unless he wanted to walk to town and take a taxi. Even then, he only had seventeen dollars. 

“Will,” Hannibal greeted him. “The others were unable to make the journey.” He stepped around the car to open the passenger door. 

Will’s eyes searched Hannibal’s face and body language as Will approached the car. “I pointed a gun at you.” He walked around to the passenger side of the car and stopped near the trunk. He was still assessing Hannibal. 

“In a fevered haze brought on by encephalitis,” Hannibal said. “Are you feverish, Will?”

Will licked his lips. “No.” 

“Do you have a weapon?” Hannibal asked. 

“Of course not,” Will said. 

“Then I have nothing to worry about,” Hannibal said. He stepped away from the passenger door and left it open. 

There were no other options. Will got into the passenger seat and shut the door behind. Once they were both buckled into their seats, Hannibal started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. 

The sun peeked through cracks in the clouds. The road was slick from rain but the storm had moved on already. Hannibal’s driving was steady and controlled. As though he knew he did not have to ask permission, Will turned the radio on, but after flicking through both the AM and FM stations, he flicked the radio off. A flash of the car ride to Minnesota occurred to Will, but it quickly dissipated. It was something about not having to ask about turning on the radio as long as Will picked something they could both endure. The more Will tried to recall of that car ride, the less certain he became of the memories associated with it. Hannibal showed no surprise or annoyance at Will’s action as though it was an expected gesture. 

“They told me the entire right side of my brain was inflamed,” Will said. There were no accusations in his tone, but he sounded wary. “They said it was more advanced than anything anyone at the prison or the partnered hospital ever saw.” 

“When you had your brain scan,” Hannibal said, “it could have been in the very early stages. Autoimmune encephalitis is hard to detect. Your lack of sleep and pressures of work would exacerbate the condition.” 

Will looked away from the window and towards Hannibal. That answer sounded so plausible and it came with so much confidence. Will knew somewhere in his encephalitis haze he decided Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper or perhaps the copycat. Will could no longer see the design. He doubted he would get a chance to see the evidence and reformulate it either. He wanted to take the dogs and go back south if he was of no more use here. “I guess that’s two problems I don’t have to worry about now,” Will said. 

Hannibal did not respond immediately. Will did not expect Hannibal to. Will knew Hannibal could not speak for Jack’s impending intentions once the funeral was over in a few days. 

“If you leave, where will you go?” Hannibal asked. 

Will could tell that they were heading towards the area Alana lived. Will supposed it was natural to assume the first thing he wanted was to see his dogs. He told Alana as much when she came to visit him over the past months once his encephalitis calmed. 

Will sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe Louisiana? Georgia? Somewhere warm.” The less likely there would be snow, the better. He watched the signs along the highway. “Take the dogs and never come back.”

“Perhaps Jack Crawford thinks differently,” Hannibal said. He turned off the highway.

“Every case I’ve ever looked at might be retried even though I’m not the copycat,” Will said. “Every piece of evidence I’ve touched is useless. Who would want that risk back?”

“Jack Crawford can be a desperate man,” Hannibal said. “Also, it has been empty with your absence.” 

Will’s eyes shifted away from the trees and to Hannibal. He did not speak, waiting for Hannibal to elaborate.

Hannibal did not elaborate on the last comment. He turned the steering wheel and pulled up outside of Alana’s house. Will recognized Beverly’s car in the driveway. Will’s car was beside it with a covering against the weather over the months it sat outside. Will opened the passenger door and stepped out. He smelled the rain on the air deeply. Once the car door closed, Alana’s front door opened and Winston slipped past Alana and Beverly, tail wagging. Winston rushed forward, eager to greet Will. Will knelt down and petted Winton with great affection. He heard more than saw Hannibal exit the car. 

“I don’t know who’s more excited,” Beverly said when the women reached the car. 

“Good thing it’s not a competition,” Alana murmured. Her gazed shifted to Hannibal. “Are you going to stay for dinner?”

“I would love to,” Hannibal said, “but I have an appointment that I could not reschedule.” 

Will stood up. Winston remained at his side. “Thanks for the ride,” he said. 

“It was my pleasure,” Hannibal said. “Good evening,” he said and left. 

Alana, Beverly, Will, and Winston entered Alana’s home. The rest of Will’s dogs greeted him, all excited for his return. Alana, Beverly, and Will worked together to throw pasta and sauce on the stove with steamed vegetables. They talked about anything and everything but work. Finally, they sat at Alana’s dining table, the dogs nearby waiting for anything that might fall to the floor. 

“I want to thank both of you,” Will said after he finished his meal. “Not just for the food, but all the help along the way too.” He smiled slightly. “I feel more like myself than I have in a long time.” 

“We’re glad you’re free,” Beverly said, “and feeling better.”

Alana nodded and leaned back in her seat. Her lips pursed in thought and she drank the last of her water. 

“You’ve been wanting to say something since Dr. Lecter left,” Will said to Alana. 

Alana and Beverly exchanged a look. Alana turned her attention to Will. “We just want you to be careful. You’re not the copycat, but someone wanted everyone to think that you were.” 

“I will be careful,” Will said. He set his used silverware carefully on his plate. “I don’t want to go back there ever again.”

**To be continued….**


End file.
